Connections
by anon004
Summary: House, Cuddy and Lydia. Rated T for Language


A/N: Since I'm positive the Lydia scenario in the season six premiere will fall off the screen on the show, I wanted to address it in my own way. This is set about a year after House has left Mayfield. He's in a relationship with Cuddy, but they haven't moved in together.

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**Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.**

It was a Saturday in the fall. A warm, clear, sunny day. Cuddy had brought Rachael over to House's apartment. They had decided to spend some time in the park, which typically meant Cuddy playing on the swings with Rachael and House sitting on a bench playing with his Playstation. They then planned go to lunch, pick up some groceries to cook dinner, and come home so Rachael could take a nap. After that, it was dinner and putting Rachael to bed, and Cuddy and House spending the evening together.

It wasn't the most exciting day House could envision, but he had mostly eschewed the overly-stimulating since the "excitement" of not being able to tell reality from delusion fifteen months ago. Besides, if he played his cards right, he would get to have sex with Cuddy during Rachael's nap, after she went to bed, and possibly early the next morning if Cuddy let him stay over. Lately, that had been happening most Saturdays, so he was hopeful.

Cuddy was about to ring the bell when she saw the note on the door from House saying that he had gone for coffee and would be back shortly. She let herself in with her newly acquired key and decided to wait. Rachael was an active toddler, so before Cuddy put her down to run around, she closed the doors to the bedroom and bathroom, and put up the baby gate House kept in the kitchen at the entrance to that room.

House insisted that he didn't need a gate until Cuddy had left him alone with Rachael one Sunday afternoon about three months ago. House had been so engrossed in watching TV that he didn't notice Rachael wander into the kitchen. She had emptied nearly every cupboard she could reach before House realized what she was doing. It took Cuddy and House nearly an hour to put everything back where it belonged.

Cuddy smiled at both the memory of her inquisitive daughter and House's embarrassment at Wilson discovering the gate when he was over one evening.

Cuddy put Rachael down and sat in the living room. Cuddy picked up one of House's medical journals and started to read. Being a doctor, she wasn't too squeamish about the symptoms of the various tropical diseases described in the journal, but she questioned how often she would use any of that knowledge in New Jersey.

House's computer beeped, indicating a new e-mail. Cuddy knew she should ignore it, but her curiosity got the better of her.

The fact that House had any new e-mail he received automatically open on his desktop just made it harder to resist. She hoped she wouldn't find some advertisement for the latest porn site House had been visiting.

What she saw was even worse:

_Hi, Greg-_

_I know I haven't been in contact with you for over a year. I have divorced my husband and received joint custody of my children. I just wanted to let you know that I have moved back to the area with them and my ex-husband's sister. I continue to remember the wonderful relationship we developed when you were at Mayfield, leading to one of the most passionate nights of my life. I felt connected to you not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. I know that you felt the deep connection as well. I hope that I am not too late, and that we will be able to renew and deepen our relationship. I anxiously await your reply._

_All my love,_

_Lydia_

House had never even mentioned meeting a woman when he was at Mayfield, let alone having sex with her. And it wasn't even just sex, it was "an emotional and spiritual" connection. Cuddy had waited twenty years just to get House to admit he had any feelings at all for her. She loved House deeply, but he had never expressed similar feelings for her and they had been together over six months.

Cuddy was devastated. She collected Rachael, grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote something on the bottom of House's note. She went to her car, put Rachael in her car seat, and pulled out just as House was returning. She didn't see him through her tears.

House was puzzled when he saw her car pull away so quickly. He thought there was an emergency at the hospital. Usually, she'd call him on his cell and let him know what was going on. _Oh well, maybe the situation is just too urgent_ House thought.

He found his note on the door. There was a huge X through what House had written.

_House- I just can't be with you anymore. Goodbye, Cuddy._

_What the hell?_ He thought. He knew he was capable of screwing up and hurting her, but he had been so much more careful since they had gotten together. He racked his brain trying to figure out what he had said or done to make her do this. He just couldn't think of anything.

At this point, he had entered his apartment and had removed his coat. He saw his laptop was on. He went over and saw the e-mail. _Shit_ he thought. _I should have told her about this. I should have known it would come back to bite me on the ass._ Even more troubling was the fact that House had no idea how to fix it. He could try to explain, but those would just be words. House felt a pain as sharp as anything he had ever felt when his leg was hurting him. He had to repair this, or, at least, he had to try.

The first thing he did was send a reply to Lydia, asking for them to meet somewhere.

Apparently, she was still on-line, because she responded almost immediately. They decided to meet for lunch at a chain restaurant just off the turnpike about half-way between them. House took his motorcycle. His mind was racing with everything he had to deal with, and driving the bike allowed him to clear his head.

He arrived at the restaurant around eleven-thirty. Surprisingly for a Saturday, the place was relatively quiet. The hostess led House to a booth in the back of the restaurant. He hoped Lydia hadn't chosen it because it was romantic and secluded. It was private, at least. House really didn't want to make a scene, which he feared might be the outcome of what he was going to say.

Lydia jumped up out the booth when she saw him and ran to give him a kiss. She was a little surprised when he didn't kiss back and pushed her away. She didn't know him that well, but she did know that he was not comfortable with displaying affection in public. That must be why he was being less than enthusiastic.

She also thought that maybe he was still upset at her leaving him. She didn't want to do it, but at the time she felt she had no choice. She would have to make him understand that.

They sat down in the booth. House noticed that most of the bench seat on her side was taken up by a large winter coat. She was also wearing a heavy sweater. _Must not be used to temperatures below fifty degrees_ House thought. He also noticed her skin seemed a little bit brown and leathery. _Too much time in the Arizona sun._ She was still beautiful, though.

"How have you been doing?" Lydia asked. "You look really good."

"Thanks," House said. He decided reciprocating might encourage her, so he let that slide. "You've moved back here?"

"Yes," Lydia said. "Thanks to you, by ex-husband's sister is doing very well. She auditioned for the Philadelphia Philharmonic and made the cello section again. Of course, she is no longer first cellist, not even close, but she hopes to work her way back someday."

"That's good," House responded. He thought about asking about her children, but he had only seen her son for a couple of minutes and never met her other child. He thought asking about them would imply an intimacy they didn't really have, so he let it go.

"Are you back to being a doctor?" Lydia asked, noticing the shortness of House's answers. He did say to her once that he had the habit of pushing people away when he was scared. Well, having someone you once had a relationship with show up unexpectedly could be a little scary. She certainly hoped that was the reason for his distance.

"Yes, I'm working at the same hospital I was before," he said. He didn't think it was the right time to mention he was also banging his boss.

The waitress had come with their drink order. House had wanted a beer very badly, but he thought it would be a good idea to keep his wits about him during the conversation. He had also learned a lesson from the accident he had in Middletown a year and a half ago, namely, that alcohol and motorcycles were an even worse mix than alcohol and cars were. He drank his soda and Lydia sipped her coffee. The waitress informed them the food would be out shortly.

Lydia decided it was time to get down to business. "You know from my e-mail why I wanted to see you."

House winced almost imperceptibly because of the problems that e-mail had caused. He really shouldn't have his laptop set up to do that. He liked getting notified he had emails so he didn't have to go over and check, to spare his leg any unnecessary walking. It had been sheer laziness on his part that they popped up automatically. But, he had gotten used to it, and since he lived alone, it had never been a problem before. He made a mental note to change the e-mail set-up when he got home.

"Yes, I do," House replied.

"Do you want to get back together with me?" she asked hopefully.

Just at that moment, the waitress arrived with their lunch. House gained a momentary reprieve as she put down the food and asked them if they needed anything else. After being informed they were okay, the waitress left.

Lydia was still looking at him hopefully. House didn't know any other way except to tell her the truth. "Listen, you meant a lot to me when I was at Mayfield, and I think our relationship, such as it was, helped me. But I don't see us getting together again."

"Why not?" Lydia was trying not to show her disappointment, but her voice betrayed her.

"First of all, because we're not the same as we were then," House began. "You were in an unhappy marriage and trying to restore a relationship with someone who was, in effect, unreachable. Your marriage has ended, and you have your friend back."

He paused, waiting to see if Lydia wanted to say something. When she remained silent, he continued. "I was in a patient in a mental hospital, and I had a lot of problems. I'm still hardly problem-free, but I am better."

"But what about the feelings we shared?" Lydia asked. "I felt so connected to you. I know you felt something, too. You cried."

"I'm not sure that our connection was anything more than mutual need," House asserted. "And I cried because it had been so long since I felt anything besides pain when it came to being with someone. It was overwhelming just to feel good."

"Now that we are both better, don't you think we should at least try to have a healthy relationship?" Lydia questioned.

"I can't," House responded. "I'm in a relationship with someone else." House didn't mention just how shaky that relationship was right now.

"I left my husband," Lydia stated.

"Yes, but you wanted to do that," House said. "I don't want to leave this person." That was certainly true.

"You're not telling me something," Lydia guessed. She looked at House carefully. "Oh my God, you weren't lying to that man at the fundraiser. You really are gay!"

"Since I had sex with you, that would make me bi, technically," House said, without thinking.

"But you're in a relationship with a man now, and you prefer men," Lydia concluded.

House had had the chance to process what she said. He debated telling her the truth. He decided that if she thought he was unattainable, she would leave him alone. Besides, if it made it feel less like a personal rejection to her, why take that small comfort away from her? He realized that he had learned something in the past year about not needing to be brutally honest with everyone about everything. _That's progress, isn't it?_ he thought.

"Busted," House responded.

Even though they hadn't eaten much, things became awkward pretty quickly. Luckily, the waitress came by to check on them.

"Hey, we realized that we are running really late," House lied to her. "Can we get the check?"

"Do you want me to wrap anything?" the waitress asked, noticing their mostly untouched food.

"Just the check, please," Lydia implored.

The waitress was back in less than five minutes. For a brief moment, House considered putting the meal on his credit card, but decided he really didn't want to be reminded of this lunch next month when the bill came. Apparently, Lydia felt the same way as they both put some cash down on the table. Between the two of them, the waitress was going to get to very nice tip. It was a small price to pay to get out of there fast.

They parted at the front door as they headed to their respective vehicles on either end of the parking lot.

"Good luck to you," Lydia said, quickly giving him a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Thanks. You, too," House replied equally quickly.

House limped to his motorcycle, straddled it, put his cane in the holder, put on his helmet, started it, and lifted the kickstand. He waved to Lydia as she stood beside her car and he left the parking lot, heading for the highway.

He realized that this was easier than he thought it would be, even though it was painful. What he had facing him was going to be harder still. He might even fail. But he couldn't walk away without trying.

House arrived on Cuddy's doorstep at about two-thirty. He had made a quick stop before he got there to buy her something. He wasn't much of a flowers-and-candy kind of guy, and he also didn't want to make a gesture that was practically admitting he had done something wrong. Okay, he had done something wrong by not telling her, but that really shouldn't be something that they would break up over. For some reason, Cuddy felt differently. If nothing else, he wanted to solve that puzzle.

So, House stood there, grocery bags in hand. They'd been together for about six months, and he thought he had observed enough to figure out what food she bought when she cooked a meal. It wasn't anything elaborate, but it would make a decent dinner. If she didn't throw him out and toss the bags after him.

He rang the doorbell. It was so nerve-wracking that he missed the days when he could shift his weight from one foot to the other. At least fidgeting would give him something to do during what seemed like an interminable wait.

House heard the door opening. Cuddy was going to respond that much.

She opened the screen door and let him into the foyer. "I needed your key to lock your door," Cuddy stated without emotion, "And I didn't want to leave it outside. I assume you're here to pick it up."

She went to her purse to get it. As she came back to give the key to House, he had the first opportunity to look at her. She may have seemed calm, even cold, now, but she looked like she had been crying for a long time.

Cuddy tried to hand the key to House, but he was holding the grocery bags. He ignored the key being presented to him. "I didn't know if you had the chance to go to the market, so I brought some food to make for dinner," he said as he held up the bags.

"We're all set," Cuddy stated curtly. "Just take the key."

"I don't want the key," House responded. He pushed past her and headed toward the kitchen. "I'll just put these things away."

"House," Cuddy said sharply. Part of her wanted to shout at him, but she didn't want to wake up Rachael, who had just gone down for her nap. Another part of her was just too drained to put up a fight.

She went to the kitchen. By the time she got there, he had most of the groceries put away. "I want you to go now, House," she stated in what she hoped was a calm but firm voice.

"You can't always get what you want," House replied. When he got no response at all, not even an irritated eye-roll, he knew she was beyond mad. Between that, her coldness toward him, and the obviously copious crying she'd been doing, she was hurt about something. Very hurt.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"What if I don't think there's anything to talk about?" She asked angrily.

"You know there is," House stated quietly.

"What?" Cuddy said. "Sex in the Asylum?"

"Before we get into that, I need to tell you something," House began. "I met Lydia today for lunch."

Cuddy glared at him. "Well, I hope you met in a hotel, so you could get laid, because you sure as hell aren't getting any here."

"Believe it or not, they really frown on their patrons having sex in the booths at TGI Fridays," House answered sarcastically. He honestly hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but he was getting frustrated.

"Well, if not that, then why did you go?" Cuddy asked venomously. "Not that I care, but I'm sure there's no way to stop you from telling me."

Ouch, that was painful. House had to remind himself that she was hurt and most likely lashing out blindly. God knows he done that enough of that over the years. "I went to tell her we couldn't be together. That I didn't love her and I was with someone else now."

"Oh," Cuddy said. She sounded skeptical, but she also sounded a little less angry. Maybe there was a possibility to fix this. "Now that you've said what you wanted to say, please leave."

House knew he hadn't solved the puzzle of her hurt feelings yet. What was she so upset about? House thought back to the content of the e-mail. Lydia had said she wanted to get back together with House. Cuddy knew that wasn't going to happen, so she was probably no longer upset about that. Or at least not that much. House thought back to what else was in the e-mail. Lydia had said she divorced her husband. That meant she was available, but House had already addressed that. Same with Lydia moving back. What else had she said? That she and House had had sex. No, that wasn't it. Lydia had written that she and House had _made love_, and that they had become connected emotionally and spiritually. That had to mean something. But what?

Cuddy watched as House stood there in her kitchen lost in thought. "I said that it's time for you to go, House."

"I need to know why you are so upset," House said.

"I'm not one of your puzzles, House," Cuddy stated. "Get out."

"Please," House implored her. "We've waited twenty years for this, for us. If we're going to walk away, I deserve to know why."

"You don't deserve to know anything, House," Cuddy was almost red in the face she was so angry. "What _us_? You should have done her in the booth. Maybe then you could re-establish your 'emotional and spiritual' connection."

"Just because she said that doesn't mean it's true," House declared.

"So, you felt nothing?" Cuddy asked. "It was just like another quickie with one of your hookers?"

"I didn't say I didn't feel _anything_," House replied honestly. "I was moved. We were two broken, needy people who reached out to each other. We felt okay being vulnerable with each other. That's all."

"So, she knows you for two months and gets that kind of gift?" Cuddy stated. "I've known you for twenty years, and you've never given me that."

"What?" House asked. "The gift of my neediness? I think I've 'given' you plenty of that. Besides, why the hell would you want it?"

"Not your neediness," Cuddy clarified. "Your vulnerability. Forget the last twenty years. We've been together six months. You still haven't let me in. I had almost resigned myself to not getting close. I thought that maybe you just couldn't do that. Then I read an e-mail from a stranger that shows me you can, with someone you barely know. So, . . . I have to think . . . that it's me . . . that you can't . . . trust me . . . enough . . . to let me . . . really . . ..love you . . . that's . . . why . . . we . . . can't . . . "

Cuddy had dissolved into sobs. House realized she _was_ jealous. Not of any sex or relationship. Of the intimate connection she thought had happened. She wanted the same thing. Apparently, she didn't know that what she had with him was all that and more.

God, how did he explain this? "Cuddy, Lydia was important to me. You know why?"

Cuddy stopped crying and looked at him. House took that as permission to continue. "After the infarction and Stacey left, I was so shut down inside I could barely feel anything. Having Stacey come back and then leave, the ketamine failing, Amber dying, losing Wilson, and then Kutner . . . well, I thought I was pretty much dead. I think that's why I was using so much Vicodin. What wasn't dead inside was just pain, or so I thought. After I detoxed, I found I could connect with someone else and there could actually be a least a little bit of happiness. I also found when she left I could survive. That's what made it possible for me to have a relationship with you."

Cuddy had listened intently. "I understand that connecting with someone made it easier for you to be with me. But how did her leaving help?"

"I realized that if I lost you, I could survive," House said.

When Cuddy still looked puzzled, he continued. "I was always afraid that losing you would kill me. It kept me from ever trying for a relationship with you. Once I realized I could survive losing someone, I knew it would be okay to at least attempt to be with you."

A silence fell between them.

"If you want me to take my key and leave, I will," House said quietly. "I'll give you your key, too."

House went into his pocket to retrieve his keys. Cuddy walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. "I don't want you to give me back my key, and I don't want to give you back yours. I want to be closer to you, House, not farther away."

House pulled his hand out of his pocket and entwined his fingers with hers. "I'm sorry I'm so crappy at letting you know it, but I'm closer to you than I have ever been with anyone."

"I guess I knew that," Cuddy sighed. "By the way you touch me . . . "

House had his other hand on Cuddy's cheek. She leaned into it. House suddenly felt his fingers getting wet and he realized she was crying again.

"I'll try to be better about telling you, too," House said in his softest voice. "At least once on a while."

Their lips found each other for the briefest of kisses. Rachael started to cry, letting them know she was up from her nap.

Their foreheads met and they both smiled.

"I have to get this," Cuddy said reluctantly.

"No," House said. "I will. Just get started on dinner. I'm starving. I had this really awkward lunch today, and I didn't eat much . . . "

Cuddy punched him lightly on the arm as he turned toward Rachael's room

House emerged with a still sleepy Rachael in his arms, with her head on his shoulder. Cuddy pretended to be focused on cooking as she saw House use kisses to wake her up.

They walked slowly toward Cuddy. Rachael put her arms out to Cuddy. "Mommy," she murmured.

Cuddy thought it was a handoff. She was surprised when Rachael put her arms around her neck and House continued to hold her around the waist. It became clear what he was doing when he enfolded both of them in his long arms.

They hugged for a while until Rachael started squirming to get down. They reluctantly let her go.

House sat down while Cuddy continued cooking. "Do me favor," House said.

"What's that?" Cuddy asked.

"The next time I screw up, just tell me that," House replied.

"You didn't screw up," Cuddy stated. "I did. I guess I just wanted you too much."

"If we both keep making that mistake, I think we'll be okay," House responded. A contented silence surrounded them as Cuddy got dinner ready.


End file.
